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And as for me, what did I deserve? One morning without having to swallow my breakfast while sitting in the parking lot of the hospital. Time to exercise and cook nutritious food so I could fit back into my leather pants. Someone to snuggle up to at night that didn't jam their toes into my eye would also be nice. Hell, someone to fuck my brains out wouldn't hurt either. Was I a terrible mom for wanting more? More than constantly giving all of my energy and time to little creatures that were one thousand percent dependent on me. Probably. But it doesn't matter. There's no way that Tim was ever going to let me escape. It was just a matter of time before he found us. And his gang was never far behind. And then what would I do? Running wasn’t sustainable. It was exhausting having to start over.
Just get through today. Once I maneuvered the car out of the garage, I pressed the remote to close the door. While I backed out, I noticed a black sedan parked half a block down. A pinprick of fear stabbed my gut. That was the third time I noticed that car in the morning on my way to daycare. Was there a driver inside? I shook my head. You're insane. You just got here a month ago. He couldn't have caught up that fast. Breathe.
I turned towards the main road. My stomach knotted as the car began to move. My heart clambered against my chest as I steered the car through the main road and into the neighboring housing development. Slowing until the car got closer, I pulled over abruptly and parked. I held my breath. Craning my neck to see the driver, I waited on pins and needles. It passed with a whoosh. An elderly woman sat behind the wheel. You're freaking losing it. Tomorrow's going to be better. Just get through today. I took a few deep breaths and shifted into drive, only my subconscious registering the tall figure watching me from the next intersection.
Chapter 2
Wes
The Sensitive One
The nurse had a hole in her sweater. I was in Frank’s room, which was lit like a low-budget horror flick, when she came in to check his bandages. Although the room was dingy at best, at least Frank was in a single room. Quickly, I scooted my chair to make room for her at his bedside. Her face was pleasant but serious. She was focused intently on taking care of my brother. Unfortunately, most women were.
“I’m Jen, I’ll be here until eight tonight. Dr. Burke tells me that he hasn’t been up yet?”
She let her words hang like a question. I hadn’t seen a doctor since I got here. Wasn’t that all in his chart or something? I should have paid more attention to what the other nurse said. After a few seconds, she raised her eyebrows. Was she still waiting on me to answer? It was Frank that liked the medical drama, not me. All of our past visits blurred together in a painful haze. How the hell was I supposed to know what the doctor was up to? The nurse turned to me and smiled politely, but her face was easy to read. What kind of asshole or idiot are you?
“Uh, yeah. I just got here myself.” And I’m not sure how much the doctors knew about the situation. How do you bring your brother into the hospital without admitting he was involved with some shady business? Or how do you explain away his rapid healing? The things we went through to keep our kind hidden. What a waste of time. Hours playing a part that leads to nowhere. Well, it did until she walked in. My body hummed with electricity in her presence. Her nearness was overwhelming. I returned her smile with the best I could muster. She didn’t need to look down to meet my eyes, despite the fact that she was standing. She was short, but not mousy. Blondish, but not from a bottle. Her hair had a reddish hue to it. What did they call that? Strawberry. Cute too. Her hair was mussed, and her clothes looked worn, but her face was kind. She appeared to be in her late twenties. Jen might be in her thirties, but she still retained a youthful bounce to her demeanor. My eyes went straight for her hand. No wedding ring, at least not one that she was wearing now. Not that it mattered these days, traditional cultural markers of any kind weren’t rock solid like before. Her delicate fingers were unpolished. Were nurses even allowed to wear jewelry while working? Maybe she’s got a ring, but she can’t wear it to work. Her cheeks were round as apples, juicy even. Her eyes were honey-colored and sparkling. A deep flush crept across her face. I was staring. Clearing my throat, I cast my eyes downward towards Frank’s bed. Your brother’s in a medically induced coma. Probably not the time to try and get a date. I should say something. “You have a hole in your sweater.” Smooth. Practically a love poem.
She looked down at her sleeves. “I guess I do.”
Jen shrugged her shoulders. Her face didn’t register any emotional reaction to my comment. At least she wasn’t visibly offended. I might still have a chance. She was perfectly at ease, even projecting an air of confidence. Neediness was such a turn off. My curiosity intensified. Who was this woman?
“I never like to wear nice clothes in here. You never know what might get on them.” Jen went back to examining Frank. Her motions were swift and sure. It was as if she had performed the same sequence of motions a thousand times. This was all routine to her. I was nothing but a nameless, faceless family member of her only focus. I’ve never felt more invisible.
I sighed and continued to study her. Someone like her should have a closet full of clothes, not ratty old grandma sweaters. Maybe she dresses differently outside of the job. You’re an idiot. I’m already indulging in my rescue fantasies. She’s probably got a hot boyfriend and a closet full of designer clothes. Or maybe she wasn’t shallow and obsessed with appearance. You don’t know anything about her. Stop projecting your bullshit. Women aren’t always into fashion. Stereotype alert. She could be the one that’s destined to surprise you.
“Hey Frank. It’s Jen again. Are you feeling better today?” She patted his arm and leaned down close to his ear. “Can you open your eyes for me? I know it’s hard, but can you give it a try for me?” She shook his arm again, harder. “Come on Frank. I need you to show me you can hear me.” Jen made a fist and started grinding her knuckles into my brother’s chest. What was she doing?
“What’s that for?” I wasn’t concerned. Frank was going to wake up soon. Healing was easy for a shapeshifter.
“It sounds rough, but sternum rubs are very painful. We use it to assess the patient’s level of consciousness.”
“What does it mean that he’s not waking up?” I scrunched my face up, attempting to appear concerned. Playing the part of the worried brother was always exhausting. There was something about Jen that made me not want to pretend. That was worrisome. Showing your true self as a shapeshifter was out of bounds, even for a tribe leader’s brother.
“It means that we need to do further testing. We have to wait until his toxicology screening is clean, because the alcohol in his system was…significant. If he’s still unconscious after his system is clear, we’ll need to do further investigation.”
“So, being drunk and getting hit in the head is pretty bad for you, huh?” I smiled widely. Her grin mirrored mine.
“Well doctor, I do declare that’s a marvel diagnosis.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. I noticed a stain on her sleeve. I guess working in a hospital would be a bit messy. Especially as a nurse. Come to think of it, I probably should have changed my clothes before I arrived. When I looked back at Jen, her face was buried in a clipboard. Since she was ignoring me, I took the opportunity for a closer look at her. Her button nose scrunched and wiggled. Was something bothering her or was that a force of habit? Is she sharp enough to notice that his labs are off?
She pushed back a few strands of hair that escaped from the wild tangles piled on top of her head. Cute was definitely the word for her. Like something cute enough to lean over and sneak a bite. If only I was close enough for a taste.
“Listen, I usually don’t say this, but something about your brother’s condition doesn’t sit right with me. Does he have any preexisting conditions or injuries?”
Well, he’s broken every single bone in his body at least once, most twice. And there won’t be a shred of evidence on his x-ray. And he’s a shapeshifter, which means that he heals at on
e-hundred times normal.
“My brother’s only preexisting condition is that he’s an asshole.”
She stood on one foot and rubbed one calf against the other. Apparently, I was boring her already. Jen was completely engrossed in my brother. That’s a good thing for a caretaker, bad for a love interest. For someone who was completely unconscious, my brother was giving her quite a lot of information. Jen hadn’t stopped writing since she entered the room.
“Are you family?” she tilted her head towards Frank without looking up to meet my eyes. She probably already knew that from the admin staff but wanted to verbally confirm. Security in these hospitals was insanely lax, which came in quite handy when we needed things. But it also made the inefficiencies that much worse. I wasn’t impressed with the shift change so far. Why didn’t they tell her all of this information?
I nodded. “Brother.” One of three triplets to be exact. I wanted to pretend that his injuries prevented her from drawing the immediate connection, but people never saw the similarities before either. And they wouldn’t unless I shaved, cut my hair, and lost about fifty pounds. Oh, and suddenly gained the self-confidence of a superhero like Jared. Or turned into a numbers geek like Frank.
“I’m sorry. We’ll have him back in fighting shape in no time.” She winced, drawing her shoulders up in a partial shrug. Interesting choice of words. Was she onto us?
